


It's Three AM & I Must Be Lonely

by whenidance



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:10:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenidance/pseuds/whenidance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren calls Chris to pick him up when he's had too much to drink, and they don't even make it home before shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Three AM & I Must Be Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> For [facethefall](http://facethefall.tumblr.com/), because she's been trying to get me to write CrissColfer PWP all week. Thanks to K for the beta.

Chris wasn’t kidding about being the one most called at three am. It’s three-forty-four on a Saturday when his phone buzzes with a text from Darren.

_are u awake_

He wasn’t, but he is now. He yanks his Blackberry from the charger on his nightstand and presses the correct sequence of buttons to dial Darren’s number. “ _Hey_ , man,” Darren answers, happy and carefree, and he’s totally shitfaced, Chris can tell.

“What happened?” Chris mumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes, and Darren launches into some long winded story about how he called Joey to come pick him up, but Joey ended up joining the party instead and leaving with some girl and now he’s stranded again. It takes three tries to weasel the address of the house he’s at out of Darren, but by the time he’s dressed and at his car, he knows where he’s going, and Darren is standing outside the house by the time he pulls up, staring at the stars.

“There’s like, thousands of stars out there, dude, do you ever fucking think about that?” Darren asks as he climbs in, and Chris can’t help cracking a smile. It’s been a while since he’s seen Darren this drunk, and this is actually kind of nice – Darren tends to get insanely hyper when he drinks, but after a while, he mellows out, and Chris much prefers that, especially if he’s sober.

“I have thought about that on occasion. Fun night?” Chris turns his attention back to the road, pulling off the street and heading towards Darren’s place.

“Yeah. Thanks for coming, Joey’s a dickwad.” Darren reaches over to pet at Chris’s thigh appreciatively, a move that Chris knows probably isn’t supposed to mean anything, but god, he forgot how handsy Darren is when he’s drunk.

“No problem. I have brunch with Jenna and Kevin at eleven to get our mimosas on at a respectable hour on a Sunday, as opposed to, this,” Chris says with a wave of his hand, which Darren softly laughs at, “So I have plenty of time to take another nap once I drop you off.” Darren’s palm is still resting on his thigh, five pressure points just barely pressing into his skin through the fabric of his jeans, and it’s becoming mildly distracting, so Chris really just tries to focus on the road. He figures Darren will pass out well before he gets to his place anyway, and he’ll have to wake him up to entice him up the stairs to his apartment – that’ll be fun. He just has to wait for him to fall asleep.

Darren doesn’t fall asleep though. Chris can feel his strangely intense gaze upon him, even catches it out of the corner of his eye when he makes a turn to confirm. “Everything alright?” he asks, cautiously, and Darren’s voice drops low before he answers, “Yeah,” his hand inching just slightly higher on Chris’s thigh, and _oh_ , apparently this drunken pickup turned into a booty call and he missed the memo. They haven’t done this – whatever _this_ is – in forever, not that Chris is going to complain. He quickly swerves down a side street to switch directions and head towards his house, which is roommate free, aside from Brian.

Darren might be wasted, but he still catches on quick, noting the direction change, and leans over the center console. “Oh, fuck, Chris, it’s been so long,” Darren rasps against his neck – and how the hell did he get close enough to have his lips against Chris’s neck? He should have told Darren to put his seatbelt on when he had the chance. Before he can formulate a response, the heel of Darren’s hand is pressed up against his crotch, with just the perfect amount of pressure, and it takes him by surprise. He swerves a little again, thankful for the deserted street after four am, and curses under his breath.

“God, Darren, we’ll be home in twenty minutes,” Chris breathes, tightening his grip on the wheel as Darren tries to sneak a hand under the waistband of his jeans, continually mouthing at the side of his neck.

“Mmm, but I’ve been thinking about this all night. Telling myself I shouldn’t call you.” Darren’s been fumbling with the button of Chris’s jeans for the last few moments, and Chris knows if he gets it undone, it’s all over with, because Chris isn’t wearing anything on underneath – he got dressed in a hurry and didn’t expect to be out of his bed long, okay? Chris is relying on Darren’s drunken state to slow him down. He maneuvers another turn successfully, thankful that they haven’t run into any problems thus far because he’s pretty sure he’s broken about a dozen traffic laws, when Darren finally pops the button, unzipping his fly wide open.

“Holy shit, Chris, find a place where we can park and fuck in the backseat, I can’t wait until we get home, _please_ ,” Darren begs, wrapping a hand around Chris’s cock now that it’s out of his pants, rougher than he expects, and he’s either got to pull over or speed home, because he can’t focus for much longer.

“What if the cops find us?” Chris asks, scanning the surrounding streets and trying to formulate a plan. It’s not so much cops Chris is worried about, but someone with a camera, and the intent to sell photos to the highest bidder. He gets his bearings fairly quickly though, and pulls off a deserted street into a clearing with some trees where there aren’t any houses or streetlights around to attract attention, and his heart is beating so fast it feels as if it might leap out of his chest.

“Knew you’d give in, Mr. Controlled Danger,” Darren smirks before patting Chris’s thigh and climbing into the backseat as Chris turns off the engine. Chris wants to correct him, because this is nothing of the sort, this is pure hormone-ridden insanity, but then Darren’s pulling his own dick out of his pants, and the thought is gone instantly.

“Do you even have what is needed to make this happen, or are we just getting each other off before round two?” Chris asks with a quirk of his eyebrow as he crawls next to Darren, and before Darren answers, he’s pulling Chris in for a kiss, tongue searching and desperate, and thank god, either way, this isn’t going to last long at all – less time for them to get caught.

“Do you think I would have called you unprepared?” Darren answers against Chris’s lips before sucking on the bottom one, pulling it between his teeth, and he’s pretty sure the lube and condoms have been lifted from Darren’s host for the evening. He can’t bring himself to think about that when Darren’s fingers are pulling his jeans down further and kneading against his ass cheeks. Chris hears him murmur something like _so fucking hot_ , the words slurring slightly, but it’s not like they haven’t done this before, and Chris is letting him set the pace. He reaches down to pull Darren’s tee up and over his head and rakes his fingers down Darren’s chest, delighting in the way he bucks up against him as his fingertips catch on his nipples.

Darren pulls off Chris’s shirt just the same, tossing it to the floor of the SUV when he notices something beside where it lands, something white. “Did they really let you keep that cowboy hat from the shoot?” Chris can tell from his voice how utterly turned on he is by it, and his eyes trail to the floorboard where it lays, where it’s been for weeks. “That’s – that’s when, god, Chris I wanted you so bad that day, in your stupid tight jeans and tight shirt, all black against your pale skin, and you looked so _good_ , I hadn’t seen you in forever –“

“Hey,” Chris says, cutting off Darren’s ramble before he goes on too long, because fuck, he’s a rambling drunk. Darren looked good that day too, and if shooting hadn’t gone long, Chris would have tried harder to drag him away for an hour or two. He pulls at the waistband of Darren’s boxers, motioning for him to lift his hips. “Help me out here.”

Darren pulls the small bottle of lube and condoms from his pocket before following Chris’s instructions, Chris letting his own jeans drop to the floor, and when he guides himself back to Darren’s lap, Darren grasps his hip firmly, whispering right up against his ear, “You should wear the hat while you ride me.”

“Darren Criss, do you have a cowboy fetish?” Chris says, laughing low against his cheek, but Darren’s not laughing when he replies, “It would be really, really hot.”

Chris reaches down to pick up the hat off the floor, and when he places it on his head, there’s no mistaking the hitch in Darren’s throat at the sight of it. 

“ _Fuck_ , yeah,” Darren breathes out, snapping open the lube and reaching behind Chris’s back, trailing his fingers between Chris’s cheeks. When one slips easily inside him, Darren quickly adds another, and Chris can feel his chest start to quiver with silent chuckles. “You totally already got off tonight, didn’t you?” 

Chris scoffs, but it falls flat, because Darren’s already twisting two fingers deep inside him easily, and of course he did, but did Darren have to call him on it? “I was home alone on a Saturday night, what do you think?” he bites back, gasping as Darren angles his fingers just right. 

“You thought of me, didn’t you?” Chris wants to call him out on his vanity, maybe start humming a bar or two of Carly Simon, but he’s already too worked up to keep a straight face long enough to lie, and the way Darren’s looking up at him, his face barely visible in the moonlight, he looks completely turned on once again, not a single trace of smugness. Before Chris can answer, Darren adds a third finger and is leaning towards his chest, mouthing over a nipple, looking up at him through his eyelashes, which isn’t playing fair – Darren knows Chris will do pretty much anything he asks after that. “Please,” he asks softly, and Chris grips the back of the car seat tighter and sighs. 

“Y-yeah,” he breathes out after the sigh, and Darren keeps flicking his tongue over Chris’s nipple as his fingers continue moving inside him. “I imagined it was you the whole time … your hands ... your cock – fuck, Darren, where is that condom?”

Darren pulls his fingers out to toss Chris one of the condoms and he leans back far enough to tear it open and roll it down Darren’s length. More lube, and then Chris is hovering over Darren again and sinking down, and god, it feels so much more amazing than Chris remembered in his fantasies earlier. He arches his back once he sinks down all the way, looking down at Darren, whose mouth has fallen open a little. “Goddamn, Chris, this is seriously the hottest you’ve ever looked.”

“Definite cowboy fetish,” Chris says, clucking his tongue at Darren as he grips his shoulder for leverage, rising and falling on Darren’s cock slowly at first, delighting in the stream of profanity that spills from his lips. His knees are digging into the leather seats, which isn’t the most comfortable, but he figures he should be thankful for leather and easy clean up. Darren’s palms are gripping right above the swell of his ass, and he’s still staring in amazement, as if Chris is an angel from the heavens and the stupid cowboy hat is the best invention in the history of mankind.

“You’re going to give me a complex,” Chris whispers, bending down to kiss Darren as he gives his aching thighs a break, grinding in circles against him. The wide brim of the hat whacks him in the forehead, but Darren doesn’t seem to mind, maneuvering around it and kissing Chris fiercely. 

“Sorry,” Darren mumbles when they break, shifting on the leather seats and thrusting up into Chris. “You know watching you do this is my favorite though.” Chris will definitely have to find the hat a permanent place in his bedroom, or at least his closet – the lighting in the car is just about the worst for that.

Chris finds another burst of energy, arching his back again and fucking himself on Darren’s cock just right. Darren groans when he picks up the pace, egging him on with his streams of nonsense, and when Darren snakes a hand between them to wrap around Chris’s cock, he knows he has to be close. Darren doesn’t even bother with more lube, just pulls the moisture down that’s collected at the head and twists his hand just right as Chris slams himself down on Darren’s cock once, twice more before he’s coming all over Darren’s chest in thick, white streaks, as Darren chants a steady stream of _yeah_ and _fuck_.

He slumps against Darren’s chest, tossing the cowboy hat on the seat next to them, and Darren grasps at his hips even tighter, thrusting up into him as Chris mouths lazily at his jaw until his own orgasm hits. As they lay there in the moonlight and they come back down to reality, Chris wonders if he can convince Darren to drop him off at brunch in the morning with Jenna and Kevin and take his car to get detailed, since all of this was his idea.

He’s also thinking he needs to move, since collapsing against Darren’s chest meant collapsing all over his own come. He reaches for Darren’s shirt – because he’s the one who has to drive, after all – using it to wipe both of them up. “Hey,” Darren says, narrowing his eyes at Chris when he realizes.

“This means you get to be shirtless all the way to my house. You don’t appreciate that?” Chris says, faux-sweetness dripping and reaching for his jeans. “I’ll give you a new one when we get to my house.”

He starts to climb back up front, taking his own tee shirt with him, and Darren swats him on the ass, presumably with his underwear. “Who says I want a new one? Maybe I just want to be naked in your house at all times.”

Scratch that. Chris might not be making it to brunch.


End file.
